


Science Genius Girl

by explosionshark



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Robot AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 23:03:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4723577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explosionshark/pseuds/explosionshark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max is always her first stop after a run. Ostensibly for maintenance, but also because she likes to give Max first crack at the scrap she brings in.</p><p>Also, maybe because she likes the look of Max’s whole face situation.</p><p>---</p><p>Inspired by gaybreadlover's robot AU. Chloe has a robot arm, Max is an engineer that takes care of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Science Genius Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr user gaybreadlover came up with a vague but interesting robot au concept and drew this [fanart](http://gaybreadlover.tumblr.com/post/128154051794/au-where-chloe-has-a-robot-arm-and-max-is-an) of it. And then I wrote a thing! It was supposed to be a small thing but apparently I am totally incapable of that! Enjoy!
> 
> Title from the Freezepop song that has absolutely nothing to do with this fic. (Thanks, Kae)
> 
> Big thanks to [Kaelin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TippyTypewriter) for the beta.

“Back again so soon?” Max asks, side of her mouth all twisted up in that cute smirk, eyebrow popped high on her forehead.

Chloe feels her heart do a stupid little _tha-thump_ , can’t quite stop the way she grins back on reflex. Can’t quite bring herself to feel bothered by it. “You know me, Max. Can’t get enough of you.”

Max is always her first stop after a run. Ostensibly for maintenance, but also because she likes to give Max first crack at the scrap she brings in.

Also, maybe because she likes the look of Max’s whole face situation.

“So, what’s the trouble?” Max asks, propping her cheek atop a greasy fist, smearing a stripe of oil across her cheekbone, shiny and black, like warpaint. She could be a raider, almost. Or a badass scav. They could really fuck shit up together, Chloe thinks.

“Yo, Chloe,” Max calls again. She’s standing up straight behind the counter now, apparently still oblivious to the oil on her cheek. “You know, part of the deal here is that you need to tell me what’s wrong before I can fix it. I mean, I’m good, but not that good.”

“I know we talked about the possibility of mods, in the future,” Chloe starts.

Max nods seriously, “Yeah, of course. I designed it to be upgradable.”

“Well, what’s it gonna take to get a vibrating feature on this bitch?” Chloe asks, waving her robotic arm in the space between them.

“Oh my god,” Max laughs, loud and sudden, burying her face in her hands.

Chloe can’t help but grin in response to Max’s pink cheeks, the musical lilt of her giggling.

“C’mon! You have no idea how long the nights get out there,” Chloe continues. “I have _needs_ , Max.”

“Oh my lord. Chloe, I’m not turning your arm into a--a _vibrator_ ,” Max wheezes. The goggles she wears in the workshop had slipped down to just above her brows, Chloe’s fingers clench reflexively when she watches Max idly push them back into her hair.

 _You’ve gotta have some way to help me with my problem, Max._ Chloe almost says it. She wants to take the teasing further. She wants to see Max blush like that again for her, she wants to hear her giggle again.

And maybe she also wants Max to throw her down on a workbench and lend a helping hand in a very literal sense.

But she knows this isn’t a porno, and she probably shouldn’t lean so hard into her self-sabotage instincts anyway.

“The wrist joint keeps seizing,” Chloe says, finally. She steps up to the counter and lays her arm out for Max to inspect. Max lays her fingertips against the metal and it’s weird. Chloe knows she’s being touched, can see for herself, but the sensation doesn’t carry through the robotic arm. It feels silly to get sad about it, after all this time. A sick robot arm is better than no-arm, she knows, but Chloe can’t help the pang of loss she feels sometimes, regardless.

“Show me.”

Chloe tries to flex her wrist, but the movement is jerky, halts halfway through the motion. The tiny motors in the arm click and whirr in distress.

“Hmm, yeah,” Max bites her lip, leaning further in. A strand of brown hair falls down to dangle in front of her eyes. Unthinkingly, Chloe reaches out and tucks it back behind her ear.

Max looks up, startled, and blinks. Chloe feels her heart catch in her chest again when Max meets her eyes and flushes, but the moment is over quickly. Max pushes away from the counter, jerking her head toward the back room. “Go wait for me, I’ll take a look. I just need to lock up the front real quick since we’ll be busy.”

Chloe does as she’s told, heading into Max’s work room. It’s cluttered with scrap and wires. She recognizes some of the pieces she’d brought back for Max after her last haul. Some of it quality scav, worth some big bucks. More than a few pieces that were probably junk for all she knew, just stuff she’d unloaded on Max because she’d thought they were pretty. She kind of assumed Max would just junk them after Chloe left. She feels a blush rise to her own cheeks and distracts herself by whipping her shirt off and settling down at Max’s workbench.

“Okay, I’m-” Max halts in the doorway, mouth slack, staring at Chloe. “Uh.”

The smudge is gone from her cheek, her hair looks a little straighter. Chloe grins, giddy at the notion that Max had cleaned up for her. “Problem, Max?”

“Uh, nope,” Max swallows. She takes a quick trip around the room, gathering tools from a few different places. “No problem.”

Max halls a stool over to the workbench and sets herself down, laying her tools out on the surface before them. She clears her throat. “Arm, please?”

Wordlessly, Chloe extends her arm to be worked on. Max is all business now, working diligently with an array of tiny tools, scribbling messy notes on a pad every few minutes. She kept a log of all the work she did on Chloe’s arm - it was her own prototype, after all. Something she eventually wanted to move into mass circulation, to help other people like Chloe. Max was all noble and shit like that.

Chloe stops watching the work being done after a few minutes. She probably should try to learn some of this stuff herself, so she doesn’t bug Max this much, but it’s hard to stay focused. She’s still vaguely disturbed by the disconnect between her limb and the rest of her body. She wonders if Max could ever develop some sort of tactile sensor augmentation.

She leans her cheek into her palm, watching Max’s face as she works instead of her fingers, and considers the possibilities.

“Alright,” Max says, after several detailed fantasies and one mild fantasy-induced coughing fit. “You’re all set.”

But instead of letting go, she moves her grip further up Chloe’s arm, gently turning it over on the table.

“Huh,” Max murmurs, tracing her fingers up along the designs Chloe had painted onto the metal. “You’ve been busy.”

“Yeah,” Chloe blushes, suddenly self-conscious. She wants to pull her arm back, but Max’s expression is so tender and intent, she can’t bring herself to move. “It’s, uh, kind of ugly. Like, no offense, I know it’s your design but--”

“None taken,” Max assures her, still turning the arm over in her hands. “It’s definitely function over form. I admit I hadn’t really taken aesthetics into consideration when I was putting it together. Oversight.”

“Yeah,” Chloe swallows.

“You missed a spot,” Max murmurs, fingers tapping along the back of the arm. Probably. At least that’s what the faint metallic clicking suggests.

“Yeah, I can’t really see back there,” Chloe shrugs. “It was harder than I thought it would be, anyway. There are parts I can’t really reach, so…”

“I can do it.”

“What?”

“I’ll paint the rest for you,” Max says. “If you want.”

 _Yes. Please. Thank you. You don’t know what this means_ , are the things Chloe wants to say.

Instead, “Uh, don’t you have to run the shop…?”

Because she’s a fucking _idiot_.

“It’s been slow all day,” Max shrugs. “I don’t mind taking another hour to do this. Uh, unless you have someplace else you need to be.”

Actually, she was supposed to meet Frank ten minutes ago.

But fuck it.

“I’m good,” Chloe says. “Let’s do this.”

Max shoots her a brilliant smile. They talk a little bit about the theme of the art, what Chloe wants it to look like and then she’s off, darting around the room to collect the supplies she’ll need.

It’s still weird, knowing Max is touching her but not being able to feel it. But it’s different this time, somehow. It’s a little like getting tattooed. They keep talking, the banter is light and easy, and every few minutes the backs of Max’s knuckles brush her side, or she’ll feel the pads of her fingers graze the skin of her shoulder. It’s electric.

When she’s finally done, Max grabs the adjustable mirror she keeps on the workbench and angles it so that Chloe can see the work she’s done. Delicate vines twist up the length of the metal, bright ribbons of red twining alongside them at irregular intervals, blooms of flowers and blue butterflies accenting the piece.

“Oh,” Chloe says, biting down hard on her tongue because she suddenly feels almost like crying. It’s stupid. It looks beautiful. It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for her.

“Do you like it?” Max asks, shyly. Totally oblivious to Chloe’s near meltdown.

“Yeah, I--” Chloe swallows hard. “Yeah.”

“I can’t believe I was that dumb, y’know?” Max says. “Well, I mean, I _can_. I’m kind of chronically dumb. But still, I hadn’t even considered that it was so, well, plain before. It totally didn’t suit you.”

“What do you mean?” Chloe asks, to distract herself from feeling so overwhelmed.

“You’re… you’re _Chloe_. You’re vibrant, and-- _and arresting_ , and colorful and it was just so bland. It’s kind of embarrassing I didn’t even think about this before. It’s so obvious. I mean, the design itself is still kind of spartan, but at least now, with the paint job and everything…”

Max has had this passionate, eager look on her face during that whole rant but now it fades away into something softer, something more hesitant.

Chloe needs to hear the rest of what she was about to say. “At least now what?”

“At least now, it’s almost as beautiful as the rest of you,” Max says, eyes darting nervously up to catch Chloe’s gaze.

Oh.

Chloe looks down at her body, suddenly very aware she’s not wearing a shirt.

“I--I didn’t mean like _that_ ,” Max stutters, face flushing crimson as she follows Chloe’s gaze. “I wasn’t staring at your--I mean--”

Chloe could let her ramble, she knows. See what kind of hole Max Caulfield could dig for herself. But, really, there are better options on the table.

With her real arm, she cups a palm against Max’s cheek, leaning in to capture her lips in a tender kiss. Max shuts up, leaning into Chloe’s palm, Chloe’s mouth, reaching up to dip her own hands into the soft blue strands of Chloe’s hair.

Chloe slips her mouth lower to sieze Max’s bottom lip gently between her teeth. She tugs. Max shivers. Chloe grins and pulls away. _Nailed it._

“Wow,” Max breathes against her lips.

“Yeah,” Chloe agrees, leaning down to kiss her again. Brief this time. Almost.

“Max,” Chloe whispers, leaning her forehead into Max’s, gazing down at her through half lidded eyes. She smooths the pad of her thumb along Max’s cheek.

“Yeah?” Max’s voice is ragged, breathing still shallow.

“I really, _really_ think you should reconsider on the vibrator mod,” Chloe says. “I mean, think about it--”

Max shuts her up this time.

Whatever.

She’ll come around, eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on [tumblr](http://explosionshark.tumblr.com/) for more garbage.


End file.
